


What Can Hurt You

by InsaneTrollLogic



Series: What Comes Around [5]
Category: Dark Angel, Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Plotty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneTrollLogic/pseuds/InsaneTrollLogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec assumes their biggest problem is finding The Demon. Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Can Hurt You

**Author's Note:**

> Finale to the What Comes Around 'Verse. Originally posted to LJ 4/21/2007

Alec doesn’t tell Sam shit until they hit the border; just sits in the passenger’s seat and fidgets like Dean used to when he was running on days without sleep and too much caffeine. Logan’s phone call certainly hadn’t done much to lighten the mood.  
  
The Coming. Sam turns the phrase over and over in his head. He’s heard it before, but the situation and place eludes him.  
  
“It’s Max,” Alec says as Welcome to Washington soars by on their right. “Logan wakes up, puts his glasses on and she’s up there.” He turns to stare out the window.   
  
If Sam lets himself, he can still smell Jessica’s burning hair.  
  
“You didn’t give him the heads up?”  
  
“What the hell is he going to do, Sam?” Alec asks sounding more tired that Sam has ever heard him. “It’s going to happen if he’s with her or not. Let them be happy for a while at least.”  
  
The words sound dull on his lips. Alec himself looks dulled, the colors of his skin, his lips, all washed out, too gray, like it’s been a year since he’s seen the sun. Sam worries about him. He remembers what it was like after Jessica, like a gaping wide hole in his stomach that ached for months on end.  
  
“You think it’ll be there?” Alec asks.  
  
Sam knows it will be there. But he doesn’t know how to stop it.  
  
He remembers how Dean had to stifle a scream while the thing ripped him apart from the inside.  
  
He remembers his father’s yellow eyes daring him to shoot.  
  
The gun was a blessing. It was a miracle they’d ever found it again, a miracle that their trick with the bullet amounted to anything. And now the gun was gone. Sam doesn’t know of anything else that could even slow the Yellow Eyed Demon.  
  
Alec doesn’t share his doubts. Sam doubts he has any. He thinks their biggest problem is finding the damn thing; he assumes that since Sam and Dean had managed to stop it the first time, the second time will be a piece of cake.  
  
Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s wrong.  
  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
It’s raining in Seattle. Just like it had been that first day, six months ago when Sam had walked into Crash more than six months ago and found the double of his brother playing pool.  
  
He wonders what he’d do if he had a chance to change it. If he’d leave Seattle before the demon could zero in on Alec and just maybe spare the kid a hell of a lot of pain.  
  
He doesn’t have an answer.  
  
They park the car in abandoned parking garage and Alec leads them deftly through a maze of sewers on the way to Terminal City.  
  
“Isn’t there another way into this place?” Sam asks.  
  
“There’s always the front gate,” Alec admits, “but last I heard they had a regular military presence and odds are, the transgenics are just as inclined to shoot you as let you in.” He pauses at crossroad, laughs. “And I know Max isn’t fond of you.”  
  
“She’s not on my list of favorite people either,” Sam says.  
  
Alec turns into the left tunnel, beckoning for Sam to follow. As far as sewers go, it’s actually one of the most pristine Sam has ever seen. He gets the felling that the route is well used, perhaps even well cared for. It seems like something transgenics would do. Alec is far more preoccupied with cleanliness than Dean ever was. Sam guesses it had something to do with growing up in a genetics lab.  
  
“Let me do the talking,” Alec says. “They don’t take well to strangers.”  
  
It suddenly occurs to Sam that Alec’s disassociated himself with the transgenics, that he doesn’t ever include himself in that group; that it’s always, they, them, the transgenics and never we, never us. He wonders if it’s always been that way. If Alec has always been the outcast or if this self-imposed isolation is new. He wonders why he hadn’t noticed it before.  
  
Probably because he’s the same way. It always used to be the Winchester Brothers against the world and after that it had been Sam against the world. And until Alec, it had stayed that way.  
  
“Sam!” Alec hisses. “You ready, or what?”  
  
“Right behind you,” Sam says as Alec pushes up and manhole and pulls himself up and into the rain. They’re a team whether they like it or not.  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Terminal City greets him with a gun to the face. Sam isn’t terribly surprised. The guy holding the gun isn’t exactly human. He looks like an unfortunate mix between a man and a crocodile, with scaly, faintly green skin, an elongated snout and eyes that seemed to glow red. Directly across from him, Alec is in the grips of a literal batman.  
  
“Security breech,” says Croc. “I knew the cease fire was too good to be true.”  
  
“Clearly you’re new here,” Alec says to the guy with the gun on him. “Look, let me and my friend here go and I promise I won’t rat you out to Max.”  
  
“Not hard to figure that name out. Nearly everyone on the outside knows Max.”  
  
“Logan, then,” Alec says, completely calm. “Or Joshua. Maybe Dix or Mole…”  
  
“Mole’s dead,” snaps batman. “Exploding cigar.”  
  
Alec blinks, and something like regret flickers across his face, but it’s gone a second later, replaced by his usual mask of sarcasm. “That actually happens outside of cartoons?”  
  
Batman twists his arms back farther and Alec winces. “I get it, touchy subject. Look, I just need to find Max?”  
  
“Alec!” a voice says from the opposite side of the alley.  
  
“Joshua!” Alec says with relief.  
  
Sam tries not to let his eyes widen. Joshua is immense, taller than even Sam himself. He’s dressed in an army surplus jacket and baggy patchwork jeans that have seen better days. For the most part, he looks human, but that’s only until Sam notices the face hidden by the long, straggly hair. There’s something distinctly canine about his features.  
  
“Alec,” says Joshua. “You… came back.”  
  
“Never said I wouldn’t,” Alec replies gently but Sam knows him well enough to hear the lie beneath the words. Alec had never planned on coming back.  
  
“Left,” Joshua says shortly. “No goodbyes.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Alec says. “But is that really a capital offense? C’mon, Josh, this goon’s almost popped my arm off.”  
  
“Let him go,” Joshua says. “Friend.”  
  
Batman relinquishes his hold on Alec, but Croc doesn’t lower his gun. Sam clears his throat. “Little help here, Alec?”  
  
Joshua’s nose twitches. Sam keeps telling himself not to make sudden movements.  
  
“That’s Sam,” Alec explains softly. “You’re going to want him on your side.”  
  
Joshua tilts his head sideways, regarding Sam with open interest.  
  
“He’s a good guy,” Alec says. “My friend.”  
  
“Friend of Alec,” Joshua says slowly, “friend of ours. Always welcome.”  
  
The gun finally lowers and Sam pulls himself through the manhole and back into the pouring rain. “Guy’s an ordinary,” Croc says with contempt. “What the hell are you doing bringing an ordinary in here?”  
  
“Logan’s an ordinary too,” Alec snaps. “Look, we just need to see Max.”  
  
Joshua nods once and then his face fades into a smile. “Missed you, Alec.”  
  
The sight of Dean’ genetic double embraced by something that looks like it needs hunting unnerves Sam more than he cares to admit. Alec excluded, transgenics make him all sorts of uncomfortable.  
  
“You too, big fella,” Alec mutters, “but me and Sam really need to talk to Max.”  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Croc and Batman shove them into a broom closet to wait while Joshua leaves to find Max. Alec leans back casually against the wall. Sam takes a few deep breaths and then chokes on the dusty air.  
  
“Nervous?” Alec asks.  
  
“Edgy,” Sam concedes. “Typical policy with guys who look like that is shoot first, questions later.” And then he stops. “Sorry, that was out of line. I know they’re friends of yours.”  
  
“Joshua, yeah, but the other two... Idiots. Manticore was hit and miss in the brains department.” Alec looks towards the ceiling. “Christ, Sammy, you sure coming here was a good idea. We could have done this without involving Max.”  
  
“You think I want to see Max? You weren’t the one getting death threats from the girl.”  
  
“Been there before,” Alec says. “Trust me, it just means she likes you.”  
  
“Funny way of showing it.”  
  
“We can still leave.” Alec says and there is a hint of pleading in his voice that Sam had missed before. “They don’t have any idea how to take this thing on. We ask for help and we’ll just get them killed.”  
  
“She’s your friend, Alec,” Sam says. He wants Alec to know that, to treasure that like Dean never had a chance to, like Sam never could after he and Dean slipped onto the FBI’s most wanted list. “She’d want to know you were here even if she wasn’t tied up in the job.”  
  
As if on cue the door creaks open and Max slides inside. She looks different than the last time Sam saw her. Sure she is still wearing her trademark leather jacket along with tight fitting pants, but her hair is shorter now, framing her face in soft curls and something about her eyes seems less desolate than they used to be.  
  
“You came back,” Max says flatly.  
  
Alec looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. “Good to see you too, Max,” he mutters.  
  
The two stare at each other for a long moment and Sam gets the feeling that there’s a long complicated history between the two of them that he’ll never understand.  
  
“I’m sorry about--”  
  
“Max, don’t,” Alec says and she falls short.  
  
“Okay,” Sam says, “awkward.”  
  
The spell breaks and Max’s eyes swivel towards Sam giving him a brief once over. “And I thought I told you to leave town.”  
  
“Back off, Max,” Alec snaps, “Logan said you guys had a situation. Something about White’s Coming. He’s here to help, same as me.”  
  
“You trust this guy?” Max asks incredulously.  
  
“Yeah,” Alec says, “I do.”  
  
And just like that, the bomb’s defused, whatever grudge Max had intended to settle with Sam subdued for at least a while longer. In fact, her bravado disappears almost at once, leaking out of her face to leave a bone-deep exhaustion that mirrors Alec’s to perfection.  
  
They’re related, Sam thinks with a start. Physically, they couldn’t be more different, but they’re definitely related, a fact that in a vague, nebulous sort of way reminds him of himself and Dean and starts the old ache anew.  
  
“I’m in over my head, Alec,” she says quietly. “Things are getting bad and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up.”  
  
Alec looks pained for a moment and then lays a hand on her shoulder. “You’re Max,” he says softly. “I haven’t seen anything that you can’t handle.”  
  
Max gives him a watery smile. Alec’s face splits into a wry grin. “You and Logan sooo haven’t done it yet.”  
  
She pulls back up and slugs him in the shoulder. Alec cackles. “Oh, I know you wouldn’t be this uptight if the two of you had just let off a little steam. C’mon, the virus has been gone for how long now? I’d have thought you’d be all over that.”  
  
“You’re a pig,” Max says with disgust, but she’s smiling all the same.  
  
Alec shoots Sam a look over her shoulder that quite clearly tells Sam that, no, this is not the right time to tell her that she’s going to die burning over Logan’s bed. Which, in all actuality, is exactly what Sam had been planning to say.  
  
He’s going to have to have a talk with the kid before this is over, because if Sam has ever been sure of anything, it is the fact that knowledge is power. No matter how much easier it is to remain in the dark, Sam through the years has found that ignorance means death far more often than it means bliss.  
  
“Max,” Alec starts, but he doesn’t get a chance to start before there’s the deafening screech of alarms.  
  
“What the fu—” says Alec.  
  
“Something’s wrong.” Max is out the door in a second, Alec close behind her, Sam tagging along feeling like the inevitable third wheel.  
  
Outside, the streets of Terminal City are in pandemonium, transgenics are moving every which way with an inhuman speed that makes Sam feel ancient. Max grabs one of the human-looking ones by the shoulder and says, “Skip! What the hell happened?”  
  
“Fire,” the kid says fidgeting like wild, “down where psy-ops stays.”  
  
Alec goes completely white at the mention of fire. Skip shrugs Max’s hands off his shoulder and sprints away with that same terrifying transgenic speed.  
  
Max takes off. She’s almost out of sight by the time Sam makes it to Alec’s frozen form. “You all right, man?” Sam asks.  
  
“You don’t think…” Alec says.  
  
“Only one way to find out.”  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
It takes a while to sort through all the details. Most of the people fleeing the scene fear an attack by some group called the Familiars. Despite the pouring rain, it takes more an hour to douse the fire.  
  
The fire had been focused in one room, on the top story, a nursery. Nothing else seemed touched. When Sam and Alec finally push their way to the room, Max is there, talking to a shorter guy who reminds Sam vaguely of Andy.  
  
“Two dead,” Alec says head tilted to the side, listening to the conversation. “One of the psy-ops girls and her six-month old kid.”  
  
“You didn’t know,” Sam says. “There’s no way. These visions don’t always come.”  
  
“He thinks it’s a lightning strike,” Alec continues. “But someone would have seen the flash, heard the thunder. It’s only this room that’s burned. It was here, Sam. It was here and we were too slow.”  
  
Too Slow. The words echo in Sam’s head. They always do, because as much as he tries to pretend he’s used to this, he’s not. Sam hasn’t heard from this thing for ten years, and already the same despair is settling over him like a black cloud. This time, Dean’s not there to make sure he doesn’t get pulled too deep  
  
And Sam always seems to be a second too slow.  
  
“I need to get out of here,” Alec says, sounding as young and small as Sam has ever heard him. “Now.”  
  
“Yeah,” says Sam, eyes sweeping the all too familiar scene. “Nothing new to see here.”  
  
There never is.  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
“Do you think it’s still around?”  
  
“I don’t know, Alec. Maybe.”  
  
“It’s got to be somewhere. Things don’t just disappear! It’s not natural. Even the best ones slip up. It can’t—” He stops short, takes a deep breath. “This thing needs to die.”  
  
“First we need to find it,” Sam hisses. “And if what Logan told you was right, they might have something even bigger on their plate here.”  
  
There’s a slightly wild look in Alec’s eyes and not for the first time, Sam realizes just how much Dean had to deal with after Jessica. Sam doesn’t have that kind of patience. He never has. “Alec, you have to get a hold of yourself. If you’re not at the top of your game, things are going to get messy.”  
  
Alec takes a sharp breath and snaps into what Sam has mentally dubbed as Soldier Mode. Guilt washes over him. Alec almost never talks about Manticore, but Sam knows enough. They were soldiers there, not people and Sam doesn’t want to be the one to push Alec back over the edge.  
  
“I’m sorry,” says Sam. “That was out of line.”  
  
Whatever, Princess, Dean echoes in his mind and it sounds so real, for a second he is sure Alec had said it.  
  
But it’s not Dean. It hasn’t been Dean for a long time. After six months he still has to remind himself sometimes.  
  
Alec, not Dean.  
  
“Max!” a familiar voice calls from somewhere behind them. Momentarily distracted, Sam turns to find the source and sure enough it’s Logan Cale. Somehow he stands out from the rest of Terminal City’s bustle. Sam thinks it might have something to do with the faint limp when he hurries or maybe the glint of glasses among so many with perfect vision.  
  
“Sam,” he says, surprised. “Alec. When did you guys get here?”  
  
“Just now,” Sam says. “Figured you guys could use some help.”  
  
Logan nods. “All the help we can get.”  
  
“Logan,” Max says, appearing in the doorframe. "Please tell me we’ve got some good news.”  
  
“Afraid not,” Logan says, shaking his head. “White got through. I don’t know how the hell he did it, but he took out the guards. I can’t find a trace of him.”  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
  
“White can’t have just taken out two of our guards and disappeared,” Max hisses. “That defies so many laws of physics.”  
  
“We’ve got it on video, Max,” Logan says. “He takes the guys out and then we just lose him. There are surveillance points all around this place, but he’s in none of the videos. It just doesn’t seem like it’s even possible.”  
  
Across from Sam, Alec has gone pale.  
  
“Sounds like the fire wasn’t your only problem,” Sam says hesitantly.  
  
Max turns to glare at him. “That was lightning. Shit happens.”  
  
“Because lightning only ever burns just the one room,” Sam says, “Me and Alec got a look at it. We’ve been tracking this thing for a while.”  
  
“Asha’s fire,” Logan says almost immediately.  
  
“The Demon,” Sam confirms.  
  
“Has everyone gone insane?” Max asks. “Demons? Fires? Did you forget we’re talking about White here? You know the guy who walks in, takes out two guards and disappears.”  
  
“Can we see the tape?” Sam asks. “Maybe you missed something the first time around.”  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
  
The video’s quality is somewhat grainy, too dark, and in black and white, but it’s not unwatchable. Sam peers at it curiously. White, who seems to top the transgenic’s list of enemies, does not look physically intimidating.  
  
He’s short; Sam guesses a few inches taller than Max at most, with close-cropped, dark hair, and a perpetual scowl. He looks more like a pissed off accountant than a serious threat.  
  
“Watch,” Logan says as if reading his thoughts.  
  
And Sam watches.  
  
The fight is something out of “The Matrix”. White is lightning quick--faster than either of the transgenics. He watches White effortlessly snaps the transgenic’s neck and realizes that in a lifetime on the job, he has never seen this kind of strength from a human.  
  
“Are you sure this guy’s not transgenic?” Sam asks.  
  
“Breeding cult,” Logan answers, fingering his glasses. Max is off doing damage control and it is just Sam, Logan and Alec alone with the footage. “Breed for strength, agility. So technically, he is genetically engineered. Just the old fashioned way. I don’t think the transgenics would take him.”  
  
“Got that right,” Alec mutters. He has been pacing the room ever since Max left, too anxious to sit still. It’s the thing he’s said since Logan arrived.  
  
Sam shoots him a glance, surprised to hear Alec get worked up about anything but Asha. There’s still a lot he doesn’t know about the kid. The thought stings more than it should.  
  
“Outside of demonic possession,” Sam ventures, “I’ve never seen a human that strong.”  
  
“I don’t think there are demons involved,” Logan says, “Just a lot of selective breeding.”  
  
“And this is all tied up in some sort of Coming.”  
  
“Now,” says Logan, “that’s where things get interesting.”  
  
He pushes back from the desk, rolling his chair towards a stack of files on one of the side tables with a distinct grace he doesn’t quite possess on his feet. He grabs a folder and hands it to Sam.  
  
“This is everything I’ve got,” Logan says, “I’ve been working on this case for months but all my usual sources have come up dry. Maybe you could stir up something different.”  
  
“You know,” Alec says, uneasy. “This isn’t why we’re here.”  
  
Sam ignores him, flipping through Logan’s files aimlessly. His eyes catch on a small design of intertwined snakes. “I’ve seen this before,” he says absently and flashes the picture to Alec and Logan.  
  
Alec taps his foot impatiently. Logan’s eyebrows rise in interest. “Really? That’s the breeding cult’s symbol. Familiars, they call themselves. That symbol’s a brand. A means of identification. They’ve all got it on their left forearm. From what I’ve heard it’s a rite of passage involving snake blood.”  
  
“You’re joking, right?”  
  
Logan shrugs. “Max got initiated by mistake. It’s some sort of test.”  
  
“The kind where you die when you fail,” finishes Sam.  
  
“Right in one,” Logan says. “They were more than a little pissed when Max passed their test. “  
  
“I’ll bet.”  
  
Logan nods and then pauses for a long moment before saying, “I know Max isn’t exactly going to roll out the welcome wagon, but I’m glad you guys are here.”  
  
“Anytime, Logan,” Sam says. “It sounded like you could use the help.  
  
He glances to Alec who evades his eyes. “Logan, you got a place me and Sam can crash?”  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Logan’s safe house is on the outskirts of the Terminal City, tucked away and hidden from view. On the outside it’s not much to look at; small and gray, a good part of the roof caving in, but inside is warm and cozy and nicer that the motels Sam usually frequents.  
  
“You should have told him,” Sam says as Alec collapses on the couch.  
  
“You don’t know Logan,” Alec retorts. “The guy’s got a martyr complex bigger than the state. Tell him Max is gonna die and he’s gonna back off of her for ‘her own good.’ Then they’ll both be miserable and I’ll never hear the end of it.”  
  
“We should look into that symbol,” Sam says. “Logan was pretty thorough, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d hit the occult books.”  
  
“That’s our Logan,” Alec says, “tell him there are demons and he’s fine with that. Tell him to take his head out of the computer and he can’t cope.”  
  
“Makes you wonder how a guy like that falls in with transgenics.”  
  
Alec goes quiet for a long moment before he finally says, “He got shot. Bullet severed his spinal cord. He’d met Max a few days before, and… she came back. It’s been Max and Logan ever since I’ve met them, even if they won’t admit it themselves.” He shakes his head. “They’re about the biggest drama you’ve ever seen, but… Sam, I gotta believe they’re gonna make it.”  
  
“Alec,” Sam says.  
  
“Forget it,” Alec says, face blank. “The thing that matters now is keeping them alive. Where do you think that thing got to?”  
  
“I’ve told you before. There’s no real way to track this thing. Best thing to do now is concentrate on what’s in front of us.”  
  
“The Coming,” Alec says. He stares out the window. A shooting star streaks through the night sky, followed by another. A meteor shower.  
  
“Grab a book,” Sam replies.  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
Sam skims through his father’s journal first, scanning the sketches in hopes of coming up with a match for the symbol. The first time though he find nothing, but the second time around, he sees it, just a small series of notes sandwiched between an entry on wendingos and a slightly smudged account of a hunt with a poltergeist.  
  
The sketch isn’t exact, but the resemblance is too much to dismiss. There isn’t much accompanying it. Just a few words in John Winchester’s cramped handwriting.  
  
Familiars. Selective breeding for strength? Telekinetics? Snake worship?  
  
Sam scans the next page again but finds nothing. Something about the entry makes him nervous. His dad had always been extremely thorough and in most entries, if there weren’t details, there was usually a reference to where they could be found.  
  
The only things without those references have been dismissed as false or have some unknown link to the Yellow Eyed Demon.  
  
But Sam has never heard mention of Familiars and he’s been hunting this thing for just as long as his father.  
  
The other possibility is something Sam doesn’t even want to consider:  
  
The idea that an entire cult, a huge cult if Logan’s right, could stay under the radar for this long scares Sam more than he’d like to admit. Life is supposed to be more constant than this. The Pulse keeps people miserable, Sam hunts demons, and the bad guys all slip up eventually.  
  
“Sam, these binding rituals,” Alec says. “They actually work?”  
  
“Depends on which one.”  
  
Alec reads the first line of the incantation, stumbling over the Latin.  
  
“Only if you get really lucky,” Sam says, “and definitely not with your pronunciation.”  
  
“Oh,” says Alec quietly and Sam goes back to his research.  
  
A minute later, Sam looks back towards Alec. “Why the hell are you reading a book on demonology? I thought we were looking for these Familiars.”  
  
Alec doesn’t answer.  
  
Sam doesn’t press.  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
Alec falls asleep on his book at half past two and Sam doesn’t have the heart to wake him. Alec doesn’t sleep unless he’s completely and utterly exhausted and Sam gets the feeling that he’s going to need all the energy he can get. The less Sam finds about the Familiars and the Coming, the more he worries.  
  
The phone rings at three AM and when Sam answers, a familiar voice says, “It’s just like the Barlow fire isn’t it?”  
  
“Logan?” Sam says. “It’s late.”  
  
“Technically, it’s very early.” Logan says, but doesn’t really sound like he’s listening. “It’s here isn’t it? That demon you and Alec are hunting. You and Alec showing up and within an hour, there’s a fire. I don’t know how I missed it before.”  
  
“Logan,” Sam starts.  
  
“Are you guys in trouble?” Logan asks. “Does it know you’re here?”  
  
“Logan, calm down,” Sam says. “We’re safe. I promise.” He pauses for a long second and finally asks, “Is Max with you?”  
  
“Business in Terminal City,” Logan says. “I was just going though some of my old files, trying to put things together.”  
  
Sam breathes a sigh of relief.  
_______________________________________________________________________  
  
The morning comes too soon for Sam’s taste. The sun is a pervasive golden light, leaking past partially closed eyelids. Alec is still asleep, drooling a little into his book. It’s by far the longest Sam has ever seen him sleep.  
  
No progress. He boots up his computer, half-considering sending an e-mail out to Ash. He would have done so already except he hasn’t spoken to Ash since Jo tagged along in a hunt and got herself killed. That was ages ago, back when it was still Sam and Dean. He isn’t sure Ash is still alive. The Pulse has made any possibility of contact practically impossible.  
  
“Find anything,” Alec asks, yawning.  
  
“Dad has something about it in the journal,” Sam mutters. “Nothing specific though. I just keep thinking I’m missing a pattern.”  
  
“So… what, the thing likes psychics?”  
  
“Psychics?” Sam repeats, “I thought it was just some transgenic.”  
  
“What do you think psy-ops stands for?” Alec says. “Psychic operations. I don’t know how successful they are but Manticore was definitely in the business.”  
  
“Then it does fit the pattern,” Sam says. “Just like before. It burns the mother and takes the child.  
  
“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Sam can see the agitation etched into Alec’s face. “If this thing’s only interested in psychics, the why come after you and me? Why start gunning for Max? Why come after Asha?”  
  
His voice cracks when he mentions her name and Sam immediately realizes he’s made a mistake, that he’s redirected Asha into just a mere lump on numbers, part of a pattern to be deciphered. He’s seen so much death, so much pain; it’s hard not to become inured to the things that don’t affect him. But to Alec she’s something more, someone real and human and losing her must ache as bad as loosing Dean and Jess.  
  
“Alec,” he says, “Alec I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”  
  
He used to be so much better at this.  
  
“I’m not fucking made of glass,” Alec snaps and then he pauses, takes a deep breath, calms himself. “Come on,” he says, avoiding Sam’s eye. “We should get to Terminal City.”  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Alec disappears as soon as they hit the city limits and Sam doesn’t chase after him. Instead he picks his way through various transgenics until he winds up in the computer hub of the city sitting across from Logan Cale.  
  
“I found thirteen,” Logan says after a long silence.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“Five almost forty years ago, two about fifteen years after that and six in the past eight months. Fires in nurseries. Mothers dead. Sometimes the kids too, sometimes not.” Sam can feel Logan’s eyes one him, but he doesn’t look, can’t look. “And then there are two more. Two more that just don’t fit the pattern. Asha Barlow and Jessica Moore.”  
  
Ash only ever found four, Sam thinks with a sort of detached admiration. Logan obviously knows what he’s doing. And if he’s this motivated when the case doesn’t even involve him, Sam doesn’t even want to imagine his level of obsession in matters threatening Max.  
  
“It was sending a message,” Sam says quietly. “That’s what Jessica was for me. It wanted me to know that it was coming. That it could take me any time it wanted.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Logan says.  
  
“It’s coming for Max,” Sam blurts before he can stop himself. “That’s why we’re here.”  
  
“Max?” Logan says sounding genuinely surprised. “Why the hell would it come after Max? Another one of these messages? To who? Me?”  
  
“No,” Sam answers immediately and as soon as he says it, he knows its true, “it’s going after Max because she’s a threat.”  
  
Logan doesn’t say anything for a long time. In the silence, the hum of the computers sounds impossibly loud. An accusation almost. Alec didn’t want Logan to know, but Sam can’t think of any alternative. Knowledge after all is power and maybe, just maybe…  
  
“How do I stop it?” Logan asks. There’s a quiet determination in his voice and just for a second, Sam believes that they’ll win.  
  
But reality crashes back down a second later. Sam has never been an optimist (no, despite everything, that had always been Dean) and he can’t imagine a scenario that doesn’t end with death.  
  
“I don’t know,” he tells Logan. “Alec saw it and we came. All we know is that it’s coming for her soon.”  
  
Logan opens his mouth as if to say something, but at that moment, an intercom Sam hadn’t noticed cracks static and suddenly Max’s voice fills the room, Logan, we caught one of them. We need you to set up for interrogation.  
  
*  
  
Sam watches.  
  
Max and Alec haul the unconscious familiar into the room Logan had set up and chain him to a chair. Logan is the only one in the room who seems as uncomfortable with the set-up as Sam does. Alec and Max are all business, but Sam has this tickle in the back of his mind screaming that this is not right.  
  
Familiars are humans, he realizes for the first time. With all the talk of White’s unspeakable evil and superhuman powers, he’s never made the connection before, but familiars are human. Looking at Max’s face, Sam believes she’s willing to kill him. He doubts she’ll regret it for a second.  
  
“We found him in the sewers,” Max says, “planting C-4 under psy-ops.”  
  
“That doesn’t see particularly smart,” Logan says, “Someone in psy-ops would have figure it out before the charge blew.”  
  
“Why target just the psychics?” Sam asks. It’s one of the hundred minute details that don’t quite add up. “I mean first the fire, now the bomb…”  
  
“The fire was a freak thing,” Max snaps.  
  
Logan has a strangled look on his face. Sam tries not to look at him.  
  
“Hate to interrupt,” Alec says, all business, “but our friend here is waking up.”  
  
Sam stares at the Familiar, trying to pick out some sign, something to tell him that he isn’t human, that he is something evil, something to be fought, exterminated. He always hates the ones that looked human because he can’t help but think they can be saved. The Familiar’s eyes are blue. Not black, not yellow, blue and human and filled with rage.  
  
“Who sent you?” Max asks.  
  
“White,” the Familiar answers, but he’s smirking.  
  
Sam doesn’t know why, but he’s immediately sure it’s a lie. Max, Alec and Logan on the other hand, take it at face value.  
  
“What was the objective?”  
  
“Destruction,” the Familiar snarls. “The less transgenics in this world the better.”  
  
A vein twitches in Max’s temple. She clenches her fists. He’s goading her, Sam realizes, the more wound up Max gets, the more likely she is to kill him before he can talk. It’s Dean’s old interrogation deterrent, reckless and stupid but generally effective.  
  
“What is the Coming?” Sam asks and a second later all eyes are on him.  
  
“This one’s dangerous,” the Familiar says, staring at Sam. “You really trust him?”  
  
“More than I trust you,” snaps Alec.  
  
“What is the Coming?” Sam repeats.  
  
“It’s your grave,” the Familiar says, “you and the rest of the vermin.”  
  
“Could you be any more cliché?” Max asks.  
  
“This Coming,” Sam says, “when is it happening?”  
  
“It has already begun,” says the Familiar. “Your kind shall bow down before their rightful superiors… And you, Max, will be the first to fall.”  
  
“Threaten her again,” Logan says, eyes blazing behind his glasses, “and I’ll kill you myself.”  
  
Alec shoots a bewildered looks towards Logan and then his eyes narrow in accusation, but Sam hardly notices, the pieces of the puzzle swim before him just out of reach. There’s always something written down about an apocalypse. The end of the world doesn’t just come without warning, there are always signs.  
  
Even the Yellow Eyed Demon leaves signs if you look hard enough.  
  
And the signs are the key, not the target group. Anomalies in the normal pattern, like fires burning up in nurseries, like White on the videotape disappearing without a trace, weather anomalies…  
  
Like the meteor shower he’d seen last night.  
  
He freezes.  
  
“Sam,” Alec whispers, betrayed. “You didn’t tell…”  
  
“I figured it out,” Sam says.  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Back in Terminal City’s computer lab, Sam’s hands fly over the keyboard of Logan’s laptop. A weather site, meteor showers all week long, visible as long as it isn’t pouring down rain.  
  
And that is the missing piece, the connection he’d missed. Everything else spirals into place after it, the Familiars, their unnatural strength, the snake blood, the Coming, it all slides neatly into the puzzle, and by the time it all comes together, Sam’s breathing hard and staring at the laptop in a mute sort of shock.  
  
Behind him, he can hear Logan mutter something about protected files. “Let him,” Alec says, and Logan quiets.  
  
When Sam finally turns around, his hands are shaking and he can hear his heart beating in his ears.  
  
“How deep we in this time, Sammy?” Dean says. Only when Sam blinks, it’s Alec standing there and he hates the fact that he still confuses the two.  
  
“It’s been a while since I ran across an apocalypse,” Sam says desperately trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing because the truth is; he’s never run across an apocalypse. But if he can keep his head about this, keep from panicking, maybe he can figure a way out…  
  
“You’re kidding, right?” Logan says. “I mean, we had a scare back in 2012, but it didn’t really amount to anything. The world’s really good about spinning.”  
  
“The age of demons,” Sam croaks, “The Coming of the age of demons. Signs include fires, increased demonic activity, meteor showers that last for weeks. There’s talk about of a cult that lays the groundwork for the thing, nothing substantial, just a lot of hearsay and speculation.”  
  
“The Familiars,” says Alec.  
  
“The way I figure it, they must have made a deal with a demon. It would explain the superhuman strength. They keep it in families, the same blood oath. I’m guessing the ritual with the snake is a way of perpetuating the ties. Blood magic. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”  
  
“And the Familiar with Max,” Logan asks, “is he dangerous?”  
  
Sam rubs at his eyes. “I don’t know anymore. We need to find out how to stop this. I’ve got to get back to Dad’s journal. One of his contacts must have known something about this.”  
  
“I can contact Sebastian,” Logan says, “He’s not an expert, but he can—”  
  
Logan’s words are cut off mid-sentence as a deafening roar sounds from Terminal City’s alarms. “What the hell?” says Sam.  
  
“It’s an attack!” Logan screams over the alarms and leans past Sam to pull up a program on his computer. “This is bad,” he mutters, “oh this is very bad.” He turns over his shoulder. “Alec! I need you to go find Max. Tell her the Familiars are here.”  
  
Alec doesn’t need to be told twice. Logan turns his attention back to the screen. “Sam, I’m going to need—”  
  
Fire explodes in his vision.  
_______________________________________________________________________  
“Sam!” someone hisses in the distance, but they sound impossibly far away, like shouting down a well. “Wake up Sam!”  
  
He’s dimly aware of an insistent pulling on his arm. He should respond, but he just wants to sleep.  
  
“Sam!” the voice repeats, louder this time, but still hardly more than a whisper.  
  
He doesn’t know where he is.  
  
“Sam!”  
  
He cracks open an eye. There are sparks flying from the computers (destroyed, all of them). The room is falling apart, one of the crossbeams has collapsed and the entire place is coated in rubble.  
  
“Sam,” Logan says.  
  
His glasses are cracked. Sam is slow to respond.  
  
“Sam,” Logan repeats. “The Familiars are coming.”  
  
Somewhere along the way, the pulsing roars of the sirens have fallen to a dull whine.  
  
“Escape and evade,” Logan says as if hearing his unspoken question. “We aren’t ready for a full frontal attack.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The Familiars are here,” Logan says. “If they find us, we don’t stand a chance.”  
  
He pulls Sam up to his feet. “If we want to get out of this alive, we’re going to want to split up. Head back to the safe house, I’m guessing that’s where Alec will be. He’ll know what to do.”  
  
“What about you?” Sam says. He can barely see Logan; the room is clouded with dust from the debris and Sam’s not in fighting shape.  
  
“I’m going to find Max,” Logan answers.  
  
“But…”  
  
Logan disappears into the haze. “I’m not leaving without her.”  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Sam starts walking blindly. He doesn’t know his way around Terminal City well enough to pick his way out to safety. The entire place is coated in the same thick dust as the computer room and every so often, the flash of explosions rock the ground. For the first time in years, Sam is terrified. This isn’t demon hunting in some backwater town, this is war: small-scale, but infinitesimally more brutal than anything he’s ever faced before.  
  
He stumbles over a fallen piece of scaffolding but doesn’t fall. Another explosion rocks the ground. He can tell it’s close. He can hear fighting somewhere near by but can’t tell which direction it’s coming from, can’t tell the good guys from the bad. A leopard dashes by on his right, only it’s dressed in fatigues and is running upright. He blinks in surprise, but the apparition (or worse, maybe it’s real) is gone in a flash.  
  
He runs headlong into something solid. “Sam!” a voice says.  
  
Sam looks up (and that in itself is unnerving enough) to see the face of a dog-man staring at him. He twitches his nose. “Not safe for ordinaries,” the dog man grumbles. “Find Alec. Be safe.”  
  
“I’m trying,” mutters Sam, “I can’t see…”  
  
“Find Alec,” says the dog-man again, guiding Sam in the right direction.  
  
“Where?” Sam asks, but the dog-man has disappeared into the haze.  
  
Another bomb goes off and this time when Sam stumbles, he falls hard. A pain shoots up his wrist, the same one he’d broken all those years again. He tries to stifle maniac laughter, fails. The fighting is closer now. The dull thud of fists and feet coupled with the occasional crack of a gun. Sam pushes himself up from the ground and swerves away from the battle.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Max calls and she’s suddenly there, right in front of him, materializing like an angel from the gloom. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”  
  
“Logan’s looking for you,” Sam slurs.  
  
Max’s expression changes from irritation to worry in an instant. “He’s here? He’s supposed to leave if things get bad.”  
  
“He wouldn’t go without you,” Sam says.  
  
“He knows I can take care of myself.”  
  
“But he loves you,” Sam says, surprised she can’t see Logan’s reasons immediately. “He needs to know you’re safe.”  
  
Something crosses Max’s face and when she speaks, she her voice is softer. “Head to the safe house, hook up with Alec. Keep yourself out of trouble. Escape and evade. They’ll never catch all of us if we don’t want to be found. Things will turn out okay.”  
  
“Where?”  
  
“Find Alec,” Max says as she disappears and the words hang in the dusty air, turning over again and again.  
  
Find Alec.  
  
Find Alec.  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
He stumbles into Logan’s safe house a half hour later with no real recollection of how he found it. He’s even less sure of how he managed to avoid the fighting. He has the sneaking suspicion that something had let him live.  
  
“Sam!” a voice calls from the next room and he rounds the corner to find Alec collapsed on the couch. “I was hoping you’d gotten out.”  
  
Sam is a little surprise. He had expected Alec to be fighting.  
  
And then he sees the mess of red covering Alec’s midsection and suddenly, the dull throb in his wrist pales in comparison. Without saying a word he goes to the kitchen and grabs Logan’s well-stocked first aid kit.  
  
He swabs the wound with disinfectant. Alec doesn’t make a sound. For a second Sam thinks he’s unconscious, but no, Alec’s watching him work, hardly wincing as he moves from disinfectant to stitches. As soon as he’s finished, Alec tries pushing himself to his feet. Sam shoves him back down to the couch. “Fight’s over for today.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“They sounded the siren for escape and evade,” Sam says.  
  
Alec relaxes almost instantaneously and Sam has to wonder how much is pain and how much is Manticore conditioning. He doesn’t let himself dwell on the thought, instead turning his attention to his own problems. His wrist is a little puffy. He’s pretty sure it’s not a clean break. Just a small fracture if he’s lucky. He should probably give himself a few weeks to heal. But he has the sneaking suspicion that there aren’t a few weeks to spare. Between the Familiars, the Coming, and the impending arrival of the Demon, Sam just doesn’t have time to stop and rest.  
  
He turns back to Alec, suddenly remembering the small bottle of pain pills he keeps for occasions like this but Alec is asleep or maybe just unconscious. Either way, it’s probably for the best.  
  
Besides, Sam can’t imagine forcing his body into action today. He’s running on three hours of sleep for the past two days and he can’t stomach the thought of any more fighting.  
  
He can deal with all this tomorrow.  
  
Tomorrow…  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
It’s just past two o’clock when he wakes up to Alec’s screams. By the time he forces himself into awareness, Alec’s on his feet. “What’s wrong?”  
  
When his eyes adjust to the dim light he can guess. Alec sports the haggard post-vision look that Sam knows only too well.  
  
“Max,” Alec says shortly, pulling on his jacket. “It’s going to happen tonight.”  
  
He’s out the door before Sam has the time to react. He’s not prepared, Sam thinks ruefully. He’s got no weapons, no plan, nothing but blind faith and pure will. He’s going to die, Sam realizes, he’s going to rush in blindly, fight to the very end and then the Demon is going to rip him apart.  
  
And Sam doesn’t know how to stop it. Doesn’t know how to get them both through the night alive.  
  
His wrist is throbbing, but he ignores it and grabs the weapons bag. Suicide mission or not, he’s willing to follow Alec. Just like he always used to follow Dean. There are some things worth dying for.  
  
Alec is one of them.  
  
He slings the weapons bag over his shoulder, and makes his way out the door hoping that Alec isn’t too far ahead of him, but when the door swings open there’s a man standing in the doorframe.  
  
Sam stops short and stares.  
  
He’s taller than the figure by several inches, but the man has an aura of confidence that surrounds him, builds him up and makes him seem larger than life. He’s wearing a dark trench coat, short cropped hair and a sneer.  
  
“Ames White,” Sam says slowly.  
  
White’s sneer twists wide. “Close, but not quite there, Sammy-boy.”  
  
Realization hits Sam so hard it feels like a physical blow.  
  
“It’s you,” he hisses.  
  
White has yellow eyes.  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
“It was a trap,” Sam says, backing into the house. “Max isn’t in any danger.”  
  
White follows him in, and the door swinging shut sounds like the last nail in his coffin. “Not at the moment, no. Though this body is quite eager to dispose of her.”  
  
"But Alec’s dreams,” Sam says, “the visions…”  
  
“You of all people know how dreams can be manipulated.”  
  
Oh, Sam knows all about that. He’s nearly been killed because of misinterpreted visions, walked straight into dangers he would have been better off avoided, walked straight into situations and made things tenfolds worse rather than better, but he’s never once considered that it was all some part of a master plan.  
  
At least Alec is safe. As long as he knows that, Sam can deal with anything else.  
  
“You didn’t catch me at my best,” Sam says, stalling now because he doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have the magic bullet or the colt stashed away. He’s making this up as he goes. “Climatic battle, death, destruction, last thing I ever expected was you crawling your way out of hell.”  
  
“Did you really think that gun could kill me?”  
  
“Honestly,” Sam says, “yes.”  
  
“Then you are a fool.”  
  
Sam shrugs, fighting to keep his calm. “If it took you ten years to crawl back out of hell, then I’d say it was worth it.”  
  
White’s face twists into a demonic smile. “I saw your brother there.”  
  
The air goes out of Sam’s chest as if he’d been punched. Dean. In hell. His brain can’t quite comprehend the words, Dean was a hero and Sam believes that with every ounce of his being. The very thought that Dean could be…  
  
“He’s a favorite for the demons. They’ve enjoyed exacting their revenge.”  
  
Demons lie, Dean whispers in his ear, demons lie all the time.  
  
“He never screams at the beginning, but when he starts, there’s no sweeter sound.”  
  
“That’s not true,” Sam says quietly.  
  
“You’ll join him in due time.” The Demon laughs. “No one is coming to help you. No one will come to save you. This is Sammy Winchester, alone and powerless.”  
  
“Don’t call me that,” Sam says. “You don’t get to call me that.”  
  
“You can’t stop me,” the Demon says. “You’re going to die here.”  
  
“So kill me,” Sam spits.  
  
“All in good time, my boy. No one coming to save you.”  
  
He’s right, Sam realizes with a jolt. Alec’s off with Max and Logan and any transgenics that would know to check are locked in battle or lying low...  
  
“The Familiars,” Sam says slowly. “The battle. That was you.”  
  
“It was coming for ages. They just needed a little push. They were all to willing to die for the cause.”  
  
“The Coming,” Sam says breathlessly. “That was…”  
  
“My plan,” the Demon says, White’s face in a large, sneering grin. “Unlock the boundaries between Earth and hell. Let all my children out to play. A Familiar for each, strong, agile and willing.”  
  
So the battle between Familiars and Transgenics, Sam realizes, was just a stall tactic. A means to keep him from sliding the last piece in the puzzle. A way to catch him here alone. “Why me?” he asks.  
  
“You’re special, Sammy-boy.” There’s a maniac glint in White’s yellow eyes. “The one I needed. The sacrifice I needed.”  
  
“You could have killed me dozens of time,” Sam says. “Why wait until now?”  
  
“It was never the right time. I’m very patient when I need to be. It’s different tonight.” A narrowed-eyed glare sends Sam flying into the wall. He sticks there, unbearable pressure pinning him four feet above this ground. “This is the right place, the right time.”  
  
“And Alec? Asha?”  
  
“Would you have ever come back to Seattle if it weren’t for them?” The Demon’s laughter chills Sam to the bones. “You destroy everything you touch,Sammy. Always have.” The thing raises his gaze and Sam’s body moves with it, sliding up the wall and onto the ceiling. “And it all ends tonight.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eyes, Sam sees the door swing open, sees Alec barge into the room, but so does the Demon and all it takes is the casual wave of the hand and Alec sails into the wall with enough force to shake the entire house.  
  
Then the demon’s attention is back on Sam and he can feel the white hot pain as his stomach slices open. Can see his own blood dripping down at first and then more than just drops, a steady stream. This is the last thing that happened to Jess, he thinks. He used to have nightmares about it, imagine what it would be like to watch his own blood drip down from the ceiling.  
  
Alec pushes himself up from the floor, but he looks shaky, disoriented, like waking up from a year of sleep.  
  
“Sam!” Alec screams and there’s something recognizable in his words. A fury, a possessiveness almost, that is so purely Dean that Sam can’t separate the two of them in his mind.  
  
He knows in a sort of dim way that he’s dying. That he’s plastered on the ceiling with blood leaking from his stomach and that he’s going to burn. He doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would.  
  
And then Alec starts talking. Latin tumbling past his lips with a fluidity Sam knows he didn’t have yesterday.  
  
Sam can’t focus, but he vaguely recognizes the words. A binding ritual, something from a long forgotten book. It ties a demon to a corporeal form, gives it more strength, but it’s the fusion that counts. For a few moments before the demon figures a way past it, a way out, it’s mortal. One hundred percent killable. Dad mentioned trying it once, but came back with a broken leg and the verdict that the spell was a complete loss.  
  
Everything goes quiet except for Alec. Even the Demon turns from Sam as if entranced.  
  
The world blurs before Sam’s eyes. He’s dangerously close to unconsciousness, but he can’t pass out now, because if that spell is half as draining as it sounds, Alec’s gonna need back-up and someone needs to finish the demon off once it’s bound.  
  
But he’s tired, and Alec’s voice is starting to fade to static and for a second, Sam’s sure it’s not Alec, but Dean, his brother. The minute differences in their voices are shining through the haze.  
  
“Take that you son of a bitch,” Dean hisses (or is it Alec? He doesn’t know anymore) when he finishes and Sam can hear the distant violent scuffle.  
  
Right before it all goes black, he thinks sees his brother. Dean with a hand on his shoulder, Dean with a small grin, Dean’s voice saying, “Missed you, Sammy. I still got your back.”  
  
And then, nothing.  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
The hospital monitor beeps, a slow, steady pulse. Sam opens his eyes. The room is too white. He closes them almost immediately.  
  
“Mr. Winchester!” a voice chirps. “Welcome back.”  
  
It’s the first time in ten years he’s heard his real name used at the hospital. He tries not to let it bother him.  
  
“You’re lucky to be here, Sam.” He can hear the rustling of papers, and cracks an eye open to see the doctor flipping though his chart. “If they’d have asked me your chances when they brought you in, I would have guessed low. You almost bled out by the time we stitched up that gash in your stomach. Lucky that brother of yours was around. With the blood shortages, not everyone gets this kind of treatment.”  
  
“But,” Sam starts, but he can’t quite form the words. He and Dean aren’t the same blood type; Dean was an A-positive to Sam’s B-positive. It had made things more than a little difficult in the past.  
  
“He’s waiting for you,” the doctor says, “I don’t think he’s slept yet. Should I send him in?”  
  
“Sure,” Sam says, brain still lagging a few steps behind. “Why not.”  
  
The doctor leaves and a couple minutes later, Alec slips into the room. Sam tries not to feel disappointed.  
  
“So you made it after all,” Alec says. “How you feeling?”  
  
“All things considered, pretty good,” Sam admits, because for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t feel like he’s just gone a few dozen rounds with a wendingo.  
  
“That’s probably the supercharged transgenic blood,” Alec says offhandedly. “Enjoy it while it lasts. It fades pretty quick.”  
  
“You know,” Sam says, “me and Dean could never do the transfusion bit. It was a freak genetic thing. Worked out so we weren’t the same type.”  
  
“Universal donor,” Alec says with a shrug. “Perks of Manticore.”  
  
Different from Dean, observes Sam. It doesn’t surprise him nearly as much as it used to.  
  
“Thanks,” he says quietly.  
  
Alec looks away. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”  
  
They lapse into an uncomfortable silence. Alec stares out the window. Sam picks at the fraying edge of his bed sheet. “Alec,” he says finally, “What happened in there?”  
  
Alec frowns. “I got all the way to Terminal City before I put it together. Ran into Logan and Max was nowhere in sight. That’s when I put it together.”  
  
“Oh,” says Sam. In truth, he’s a little disappointed to find such a mundane answer. He’d half thought that maybe Alec, like Dean, had just known. “How’d you beat that thing?” Sam asks finally. “It took us years to even get close the first time and even then it was just luck.”  
  
Alec shrugs. “Binding ritual. Luck, I guess. The whole thing is a blur.”  
  
Sam hesitates for a long time. “I though I saw Dean,” he says finally. “I mean I know I was out of it, half-dead from the blood loss and all, but… I thought I saw Dean.”  
  
“The genetic twin thing probably helps,” Alec jokes.  
  
“That’s not what I mean,” Sam says.  
  
Alec looks at his feet. “I know.”  
  
“Alec, what happened in there?”  
  
“Honestly?” Alec shuffles his feet and finally meets Sam’s eyes. “I don’t remember.”  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Logan slides into the seat across from him. They’re in Crash, the same bar where he’d met Alec over six months ago. The place is packed with transgenics and humans alike. There’s a celebration in order after all, the Transgenics had rallied and defeated the Familiars, won their war.  
  
“They don’t quite get it do they?” Logan asks.  
  
Sam shrugs. “They were outnumbered and overmatched and then the tables turned. They’ve been trained to handle impossible situations. It’s only natural for them to think they won on their own. And they did win on their own. The Familiar’s just lost their demonic booster. They deserve to enjoy their victory.”  
  
Logan smiles. “This is driving you crazy, isn’t it?”  
  
“You have no idea.”  
  
The singing, the dancing, the flashing lights, Sam has had a headache since the moment he walked into this place. After hard jobs Sam has always been more likely to spend his recovery time with a good book than with drinks and parties. He’s always been this way, but the tendency’s gotten stronger as he’d gotten older. The festivities of Crash just aren’t for him anymore. Avert the apocalypse; vanquish a few spirits and Sam’s ready to move on to the next problem, the next town without stopping to party.  
  
“Sam,” Logan says after a long moment and doesn’t continue until he meets the other man’s eyes. “I wanted to say thanks. For coming back. For looking after Max and the rest of us.”  
  
“Anytime.” Sam says. “It’s kind of my job.”  
  
“Logan?” A new voice says and they both look up to see Max standing in front of their booth. “You ready to blow this joint?”  
  
Logan looks up at her. The smile lighting his face makes him seem years younger. “When you are, Max.”  
  
Logan stands up from the table, slipping his hand into Max’s. Sam gets the feeling that they’ve been waiting for a long time. “Keep in touch?” Logan says before they leave.  
  
“Of course,” Sam says. “Stay out of trouble.”  
  
He watches them leave, hands intertwined, both of them smiling like idiots. They deserve to be happy. His eyes snag on Alec. He’s sitting at the bar, chatting up some girl. He’s smiling. It seems like some weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. He’s gotten his revenge and he’s free to move on. Finally free to be happy.  
  
Sam realizes that this is where Alec belongs. Partying with his friends in a crowded club, smiling and laughing and taking his shot at normal life, not riding the back roads and hunting demons with Sam Winchester. Alec isn’t Dean.  
  
And Sam’s okay with that.  
  
He stares at his empty glass. (It had only been water. Somehow he’d known he’d be moving on.) Then, he turns his gaze back to Alec laughing and talking at the bar and before he can overanalyze and change his mind, he stands up and slips quietly from the bar.  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
It’s raining when he gets outside. Coming down in sheets just like it had been the first time he’d walked into Crash. Full circle, he thinks. He’d came into Seattle alone and would leave alone six months later. He doesn’t regret it. Even though having an echo of Dean sitting in the passenger seat of the old impala had burned more than he could have ever imagined, he’s never regretted it for a second. He likes Alec, but at the same time knows Alec’s better off in Seattle.  
  
He doesn’t say goodbye. There is a message on his phone about a job in California and he walks through the pouring rain back to the old Impala without looking back. After The Fight when he had left for college, Sam has always figured it was better to leave quietly.  
  
It’s better this way.  
  
The Impala’s door creaks open and Sam slides smoothly inside and slips the key into the ignition.  
  
Suddenly there’s a rap on the passenger side door and Sam turns his head to see Alec standing there. “Open up! I’m getting soaked here.”  
  
Sam reaches to the passenger’s door and flips open the lock. Alec yanks the door open and enters the car, pulling the door shut behind him.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asks.  
  
Alec shakes his sopping wet head, spraying Sam with a fine mist of water. “What the hell are you doing? You aren’t supposed to leave without me.”  
  
“But it’s over,” Sam protests. “You should stay here, get back to your life.”  
  
“What if I don’t want to?” Alec retorts.  
  
Sam turns to stare at him. His brother’s genetic replica. He deserves the perfect normal life, just like Dean never had. Just like Sam never had.  
  
“You don’t want this. It’s dangerous, lonely…”  
  
Alec shrugs, leans back in his seat, looking comfortable, at ease, at home. “Sounds like my kind of fun.”  
  
Sam doesn’t say a word. Alec doesn’t move.  
  
“You going to start the car or just sit there like an idiot?” Alec asks finally. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”  
  
Sam smiles and turns the key.


End file.
